Snow Day
by Serrafina
Summary: Teenage Kara and Lee frolic in the snow.  AU, kidfic.  Shamelessly self-indulgent.


Title: Snow Day  
Disclaimer: not mine.  
Note: 100% unbetaed, self-indulgent fluff. You have been warned. Written for coffeesuperhero's prompt at the lj comm no_takebacks.  
Summary: Teenage Kara and Lee frolic in the snow. AU, kidfic.

* * *

The hill behind Lee's house is perfect for sledding, so when school is canceled Kara heads straight there. She takes her shortcut across town, running through alleys and side-streets and scrambling over fences, displaying a general disregard for personal property. Finally, she hops the last fence and then she's at the bottom of the hill, surveying the back of the Adama family house just a few meters away. Carolanne's nice patio and her neatly-trimmed yard are already covered in a thick layer of snow.

Kara doesn't see the point in knocking when she's already pretty much standing in their background, so she scoops up some snow in one gloved hand and packs it as tightly as she can before taking careful aim.

The snowball explodes with a very satisfying thump against Lee's window, leaving a big white splotch behind. Through it, she sees movement. Lee raises the window just as she fires off her second volley, and this one would have smacked him right in the face if he hadn't ducked in anticipation. Kara grins up at him expectantly even as he glowers and slams the window back down. Still, she knows he's coming down. She flops down in the snow to wait.

She's kicking her boots together to keep her feet warm when Lee slips out the back door. She laughs at the sight of him, looking like a big grey marshmallow in his winter jacket.

He ignores her laughter. "Zak's still sleeping," he says before she asks.

She nods, and ignores his proffered hand, pushing awkwardly to her feet on her own. He uses his outstretched hand to rub snow in her hair. Without a word, they gather two plastic sleds from the garage and climb up the hill.

When they head back in several hours later, Kara's feet are aching and she feels damp and frozen all over, but she's grinning and laughing as she flops down on Lee's sofa and demands that he bring her hot chocolate.

He grumbles, but goes obligingly into the kitchen. Kara resists the urge to prop her socked feet up on the coffee table, knowing Carolanne wouldn't appreciate it.

Zak wanders in sometime later, still in his pajamas. The little idiot tries to steal Lee's hot chocolate (he at least knows better than to touch Kara's) and Lee threatens to dump it on him. Kara would join in the bickering, but the warmth is making her sleepy and she almost nods off right there on Lee's couch.

Of course, she rouses to help Lee carry an indignant, squirming 12-year-old out the back and dump him, pajamas and all, in the snow.

After that, Zak goes sulking off to his room and doesn't reappear until Lee makes lunch, and the three of them crowd around each other on the carpet. Lee's mom still isn't home, so Kara doesn't worry about wearing out her welcome. When Lee insists that he has to do his homework, Kara follows him up to his room and promptly sprawls out on his bed. Much to his dismay, she starts bouncing a pyramid ball off the ceiling.

"You could help you know," Lee says. "You've got to do this stuff too."

"Yeah right," she scoffs, "like I'm going to do your homework for you. Nice try, Adama."

"Whatever," he says, turning around to work at his desk.

Kara smiles, triumphant, but lets the pyramid ball slip to the mattress.

The room is shadowed when Kara wakes, Lee's hand shaking her shoulder.

"My mom's home," he says. "It's getting late."

She glances out the window, and the only light is from the buildings and the stars reflecting off the snow. He leans back, away from her as she pushes up to sitting.

"I should go."

"You can stay."

She punches him on the arm and tells him no such luck, she knows he just wants her to stick around so he can foist some of his math off on her.

"Can't get anything past you," he says but he's not smiling.

It's okay, she thinks as she walks through his house, gathering her winter gear that's scattered about. She'll probably never say yes, but she likes that he keeps asking. When she walks out, through the front door this time, her boots crunch on the packed-in snow. She doesn't look back so he can't see her smile.


End file.
